


The Captain's Chair

by DistractionReaction



Category: Star Trek
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 15:46:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/623816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistractionReaction/pseuds/DistractionReaction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t as if he’d wanted to tell Chekov about this thing of his, but the kid was pretty much the best friend he’d ever had. And, apparently, when it came to his friends, Chekov was relentless. Months of nagging had Sulu locked in Chekov’s room with a 40 of vodka, Russian (“Ze real stuff,” Chekov insisted giddily, “Non of zat replicated shit.”), and two rounds into a juvenile game of “I’ve Never”, Sulu found himself spilling his deepest, darkest desires to a very smug Pavel Andrievich. </p>
<p>It wasn’t as if it was that big a deal, sure, he had a bit of a thing for authority, and the idea of giving it up to his captain on the bridge…well…. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem. But when the captain got all touchy feely like this…</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Captain's Chair

**Author's Note:**

> First post here, hope I'm doing it right lol
> 
> I'm new to AO3 but the fic is old! (2009, YIKES where the hell did the time go?!) Previously posted on my personal lj account.Thought I'd throw it up here to see if anyone fancies a read. 
> 
> Oneshot, Un-Beta'd because I'm a dork like that. 
> 
> Based on this prompt on the Star Trek Kink Meme:  
> http://community.livejournal.com/st_xi_kink/379.html?thread=357499#t357499

Hikaru Sulu was not a man easily flustered. Sure, he found himself disgruntled on occasion, or maybe even a little bit put off, but people didn’t call him stoic for nothing. He was a man of strait faces, the king of poker, and damn it man he could keep his cool buck naked and up to his elbows in female Xyrilians, all ready to knock his ass up. Which they did once, actually, but that’s a story for another time. 

Because right now, Lieutenant Hikaru Sulu, revered pilot of the Starship U.S.S Enterprise, was positively steaming in his seat. He didn’t even know he could blush this hard, but he was pretty sure he was just about flushing himself dizzy, and the Captain? The Captain wasn’t helping. 

“No no, Lieutenant.” Hikaru nearly toppled out of his seat as yet again, he found a certain Mr. Kirk quite snug in his personal bubble. The Captain had one hand resting firmly upon the Pilot’s shoulder, the other slipping comfortably to the small of the Asian man’s back. “You’re going to break something if you stay hunched over like this.” 

Sulu shuddered miserably, that fucking tone, the way Jim’s fingers pushed just so at the center of his spine, forcing him to arch back and straighten his shoulders. He swallowed hard, willing the crackle out of his voice as he fought in vain to hide his flushed features. “Y-yes sir. Of course sir.” 

He could practically hear Jim’s smirk as the man straightened away from him, that hand resting just a little too long at the base of his torso. “Very good lieutenant. As you were.” 

As you were? Sulu fought the urge to just fold his arms on the dash and bury his head from the heat that flared all the way up to his ears, because this, this was all too much. Kirk –The Captain- had been acting like this all day. Taking every opportunity to put his hands on Sulu, be it a gentle pat on his shoulder, a lingering touch to his side, or a quick ruffle of the hair. And every time, he muttered a little something, or let his mouth rest against Sulu’s ear, or said something just so, that it left Sulu st-st-st-stuttering his way into misery. He was making a damned fool out of himself in front of the entire senior bridge staff and he damned well knew it. Working himself up like some freaking school girl with a crush. Which actually, when he thought about it, wasn’t too far off the mark. 

A small sympathetic noise at his side reminded him of his only ally in this situation, Chekov’s hand resting comfortingly on the top of his knee. “You are doing wery well Hikaru. Our sheift is almost ower.” 

God, he knew Chekov was just trying to help, and he was a good friend for it, but Sulu just wasn’t sure if he could hold out for the next ten minutes with his dignity still intact. His wirey Russian comrade was the only person on the bridge, no, on the whole damned ship who knew about it; the truth behind that infamous ‘external dampeners’ incident that had co-incidentally saved the ship and the lives of everyone on board. 

It wasn’t as if he’d wanted to tell Chekov about this thing of his, but the kid was pretty much the best friend he’d ever had. And, apparently, when it came to his friends, Chekov was relentless. Months of nagging had Sulu locked in Chekov’s room with a 40 of vodka, Russian, (“Ze real stuff,” Chekov insisted giddily, “Non of zat replicated shit.”), and two rounds into a juvenile game of “I’ve Never”, Sulu found himself spilling his deepest, darkest desires to a very smug Pavel Andrievich. It wasn’t as if it was that big a deal, sure, he had a bit of a thing for authority, and the idea of giving it up to his captain on the bridge…well…. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem. But when the captain got all touchy feely like this…

“It feels like he’s doing it on purpose.” He hissed back, bracing his hands against the bridge of his nose. Chekov seemed to contemplate this for a moment, but Sulu cut him off before he had a chance to speak. “I know, it’s all in my head. But still.” 

“Now ‘karu. Zat was not what I vas going to say.” The Russian Navigator looked completely serious, his brows drawn together over his bright eyes. Sulu mustn’t have looked too terribly convinced, as Pavel let out a tired sigh, leaning close to his Pilot with that same worried expression. “You are a wery good man, Hikaru.” He murmured, his voice hushed. “Ze Keptain. Nein, any man vould be lucky to-”

A loud yawn rumbled through the room, everyone’s attention turning towards their Captain as he stretched exaggeratedly in his seat. Uhura rolled her eyes and from where Hikaru sat, it looked like McCoy, who stood at his Captain’s side, was doing the same. But Jim ignored the tired sighs and annoyed looks, merely lifting himself back up out of his chair, and bringing his hands together in a loud clap. “Well, I suppose I could let you guys off a little early to make room for the overnight shift.” His smile was nothing short of devious, and everyone on the bridge marked it with uneasy glances. “Go on now! Ske-daddle!” 

Sulu blinked a bit, catching Chekov’s gaze as they moved to stand. ‘Ske-daddle’? He mouthed, his brows raising in an expression that would make Spock proud, and breaking Pavel into one of his brilliant little grins. They moved up towards the rest of the crew as they shuffled their way up and out of the bridge, satisfied that their work was done and they could finally get on with their rest of their evening when- 

“Lieutenant Sulu!” 

Hikaru tensed painfully, stopping short of the sliding doors that would have led him to an evening of peace and solace. Turned slightly to face his Captain, sensing Chekov stall at his side. “Yes sir?” 

“The supervising Lieutenant is going to be a little tardy this evening,” Kirk’s grin was really starting to put Sulu on edge. “Would you mind staying a few hours late? Just until the next shift comes in.” 

“Uh,” He looked towards Chekov, hesitance marring his features. “I was supposed to teach Chekov some fencing tonight but-”

“But,” The navigator cut in, patting Sulu lightly on the shoulder, “Ve can always be rescheduling. See you at shift tomorrow Sulu.” 

“Yeah…sure thing.” Sulu watched in slight disbelief as Chekov flashed him a small wink and a sly grin, stepping out into the turbo lift and leaving him alone on the deck with his captain. People always assumed that Pavel was so wide eyed and innocent, but he was maniacal and conniving. Those big eyes and bouncing curls? Totally for show. Sulu turned to face Kirk, doing his best to put on a face of nonchalance. “I suppose that leaves just you and me sir.” 

“Yes, I believe it does.” Kirk gave Sulu’s stomach a small pat, before he strolled off back towards his chair, ignoring his pilot’s presence all but completely. 

What was all that about? Sulu willed himself to calm down, making his way over to his station and sitting stiffly, his gaze straight ahead. He could almost make out the Captain’s reflection in the large glass window of the ship’s visor. Sitting relaxed in his chair, one ankle crossed over his knee, his hands drumming absently over the counsel of his chair. Really the man was something else, strong, capable, self assured. And the stories, oh, the stories; Jim’s sexcapades were positively legendary. 

NO. Sulu crossed his legs firmly, his face burning up again with the sudden image of those strong, capable hands, gripping his hips and…ohh. Shit. Sucking in a deep breath he turned his gaze to the counsels at his front, trying his best to will away the heat from his cheeks. If ever there was an appropriate time for a solar flux, an interspacial anomaly, anything, it was now. 

Minutes dragged on and Sulu found himself staring pointlessly down at the blank readings of his desk panel, barely managing to keep his body under control. He’d never spent any time alone with the captain before, not since their fight on Vulcan, and he’d barely had time to breathe through the adrenaline, let alone fantasize about the gorgeous, hunk of a man that now ran their ship in its entirety. 

Some fifteen minutes in Sulu found himself turning, against his better judgment, towards the back of the bridge. He regretted the decision almost instantly, his gaze falling on the face of a certain James T. Kirk, who was staring at him with a look that was positively carnivorous. Sulu’s mouth fell open, his brain seeming to short out for a moment as his hands went lax at his knees. That…that look haunted his dreams and aided his masturbation every night. It was the look he’d imagined every damned day since Kirk launched himself into a dead fall to save his life. And the level of intensity he felt at this moment could only compare with that second when their bodies collided mid air, Kirk’s face set with a determination that they were going to live. 

“Sir?” Sulu managed, his stoic façade lighting up with the heat of a blush. 

“Lieutenant.” The word was harsh, demanding, leaving no room for question. “Come here. Now.” 

Sulu couldn’t manage a response, he could barely manage to stay on his feet when he stumbled out from behind the navigation counsel. But he did manage to stay upright, his eyes darting nervously around the room as he made his way over towards his captain, stopping nervously at the other man’s front. His gaze instantly flicked down to his feet, staring firmly at his regulation boots even as he spoke. “Yes sir?” 

Silence for a moment, before Kirk’s deep growl sounded through the room. “Computer, seal bridge.” A small peeping signaled the recognition of the command, leaving the two of them locked away and alone on the deck. Sulu swallowed, his feet were suddenly incredibly, incredibly interesting. “Sulu.” The pilot started, as a hand grasped his wrist, tugging him forward roughly. “Look at me.” 

Hikaru slowly looked up, their eyes met, and they just stared; Kirk’s intense baby blues, shimmering with desire, and something darker. Sulu just couldn’t help it. He’d lunged forward before he could think twice, and they were kissing, and that was that. Jim’s hands were tight in his hair, pulling him forward steadily, forcing one of his knees down on the edge of the chair. Sulu opened his mouth to the tongue that slid along his lips, his eyes screwed shut and his hands braced firmly on his Captain’s forearms. It was hard, it was steady, it was everything he’d imagined Jim Kirk to be. The pain in his scalp forced him forward with the pull of Jim’s hand, leaving Sulu to crawl across Jim’s knees to straddle the older man’s lap. Their groins met sharply as Sulu rested his knees either side of the other’s hips, mouths swallowing the gasp and subsequent groan that threatened to spill from their lips. 

This was exactly, no, better than he’d ever imagined. The hard thrusts of Jim’s hips below him, cramming their cocks together from within their Starfleet regulation slacks, it was enough to drive Sulu crazy. He pulled back from the kiss, moaning appreciatively as Kirk followed his motion, stealing wet, chaste kisses with his retreat before dropping to latch his teeth on a spot of skin behind the pilot’s ear. 

“Captain-”

“It’s Jim.” 

“Jim…” Sulu groaned at the fingers that tugged up his shirt, hooking the fabric up and under his arms. “Ngh, Jim. What…ah…what about-” Jim’s mouth slid down to his now exposed collar bone, biting hard along the junction of the bone. The pilot made a small noise and just about resigned himself to his fate right then and there. He’d never been one to self indulge, and this, this was something he did not want to pass up. If Kirk was so willing to just…take him like this, who was he to deny? “Pants?” 

“Mm.” His captain’s warm tongue slid along what he knew would be a bruise. “Way ahead of you.” 

Sulu started a bit, sitting up in Jim’s lap only to find that sometime, somehow, the other man had managed to get his pants completely undone, without him sensing a thing. Seriously. The pilot blinked, completely taken a back. “How-”

“Yeah.” Jim was wearing that shit eating grin, his hands sliding around Sulu’s waist to cup the other’s rear from beneath his boxers. “I’m that good.” 

Sulu just groaned, hips subconsciously rolling backwards into that touch, his forehead coming to rest against his captain’s brow. Had this been any other time, with any other person, Sulu probably would have snorted at the sheer ridiculous size of the man’s ego. However, it was really hard to think with this fingers squeezing him just so and grinding their hips together fiercely. “Jim, please.” 

Kirk only grinned in acknowledgement, sliding his hands down from Sulu’s ass, pushing at the fabric of his pants as he went. “Computer, lock the comm on the captain’s chair.” The system chimed in response and before Sulu could figure out the rhyme or reason behind it Kirk had lifted him full out of the chair, turning only to slam Sulu down into it instead. The pilot gasped softly, back pressed firmly to the seat, Kirk’s hands moving immediately to tug his pants the rest of the way off. 

Sulu fought the urge to protest, the bite of the cool air on his bare skin jarring him almost visibly. But instead he managed, to reach out, grasping at Kirk’s shoulders to bring him down in a chaste kiss. “Jesus Jim.” He murmured, a giddy feeling bubbling in his chest every time he muttered that name. “You don’t exactly beat around the bush.” 

“So I’ve been told.” The Captain reached up, slipping his fingers beneath his lips, a sight that drove a spur of arousal straight to Sulu’s groin. Fuck. And the man was smirking, how he managed to look so damned smug with his mouth full Hikaru would never know. Jim pulled his fingers out of his mouth with a solid, wet, pop, slipping them down the curve of the Pilot’s bare ass. “I’m sure that you’ll come to like how…direct I can be, Lieutenant.” 

When the first finger pushed into him, without so much as a warning in its company, Sulu thought he was going to jump straight out of the chair. But Kirk kept him down, leaning down to press his lips to the Asian man’s jaw, murmuring soft words of apology and encouragement. It was a completely uncomfortable sensation, and were he not so damned determined to stick it through this, Sulu might have just asked Jim to ease up. But the other man gave Sulu enough time to adjust, sliding the second finger inside with slightly more ease, and by the time the third had eased its way past that tight ring of muscles Hikaru was just about pleading. 

“Captain. Captain. Please!” He wined, trying with little avail to push himself down further on those circling fingers. The angle of the chair left him with very little control, Kirk’s hands shifting him and maneuvering him with ease. 

“I thought I told you to call me Jim?” The smug bastard. Smug, attractive, devastatingly sexy bastard.

“Fine, fine. Jim! Fuck. Please!” Those fingers pulled out, tantalizingly slowly and Sulu cracked. “Fuck me you infuriating son of a-”

Kirk surged down, sealing their mouths together as he undid his own pants, a firm, delicious pressure sliding against the Pilot’s entrance. Sulu groaned, his breath sucking in through Jim’s mouth as the other man pushed, sliding inside in one slow, careful motion. The stretch burned uncomfortably, but Kirk took his time, ensuring that Sulu adjusted before each inch. He wouldn’t allow himself to be swayed otherwise either, ignoring the Pilot’s pleads of Now! Move! I can take it! 

It seemed to take an eternity, until finally, once he had been fully seated within Sulu’s trembling body, Kirk began to move. A steady pace of in and out that had the Pilot twitching with stars, dancing behind his closed eyes. “Jim!” 

Elbows hooked further under the crook of his knees, hoisting his legs up and over Kirk’s broad shoulders, their bodies colliding sharply and driving the Captain’s cock sharply into Sulu’s waiting body. Over, and over, and over again Kirk pushed in, striking his prostate with each calculated thrust, until the Pilot was just about mad with desire. 

Sulu’s hands shot out, grasping blindly at the arms of the captain’s chair (suddenly glad that the controls had been disabled) cries falling unguarded from his mouth. He couldn’t handle the stimulation, his body tensed with an incomprehensible amount of pleasure. It was too much, too fast, and god he wouldn’t change it for a moment. 

Jim leaned forward even more, just about bending Sulu in half as he struck home, sending the Pilot completely over the edge. His orgasm was blinding, his arms scrambling for purchase around Jim’s damp neck. But Jim continued to move, fucking Sulu through to his own orgasm, their bodies trembling together, muscles taught and chests heaving. 

Sulu’s trembling arms tightened around Jim’s body, unwilling to part with him in this post orgasmal state. Jim seemed content to let him for the moment, his own hands curling around the small of the Pilot’s back, pulling their damp, jersey clad chests together. 

“Jesus.” Sulu murmured, his face pressing forward into the crook of Jim’s neck. 

Jim chuckled, one of his hands sliding up into Hikaru’s hair pulling back gently to slide their mouth’s together in a brief kiss. “You weren’t so bad yourself.” 

Hikaru flushed deeply, his eyes darting to the side a bit and his hands loosening from around the Captain’s neck. “Thanks.” Coming down from his orgasm left the Pilot feeling kind of…lost. He shifted where he lay, awkwardly shifting against the hard seat captain’s chair. He didn’t know where to go from here. This had always been his fantasy, but he’d never really thought about what would happen afterwards. 

Jim must have caught that look, because his hands caught Sulu’s face, drawing him forward in a gentle kiss. When he pulled back, he smiled, with a warmth that nearly knocked the breathe right out of him. “I’m hoping that this isn’t a onetime thing?” 

“Wh-” Sulu made a small noise as Jim pulled out of his body, the sudden emptiness dulled by the implication beneath Jim’s words. “What? Really?” 

“Really.” Kirk pulled back, hand extended to help Sulu right himself, hands grasping at the hem of the Pilot’s pants. “In fact, if you aren’t particularly busy, we could always head to my quarters tonight?” 

Sulu blinked, watching in a slight daze as the Captain buttoned their pants, a distinctly nervous expression on his face. Which was weird. Because Hikaru couldn’t think of a single other time in which the Captain had ever been nervous. Not when the ship was overtaken by Klingons, not when their ship had been split into two separate dimensions, not even when they’d faced their near death at Nero’s hand. 

“Yeah.” His mouth moved before he could even register the thought, a small smile blossoming on his feature. “Yeah, I think I’d like that.” 

Kirk looked up, nerves replaced by a large, inviting grin as he drew Sulu up into another gentle kiss. “Come on, I heard the failed over-ride key a few minutes ago. Which means we have a pretty confused night shift on our hands.” 

“Right.” Sulu straightened his outfit as best as he could, taking a moment to reach up and brush down Kirk’s hair. The Captain just laughed, strolling just ahead of his Pilot as they unlocked the bridge, slipping into the turbo-lift and doing their best to ignore the puzzled looks that the two waiting ensigns flashed them. 

The door closed with a swift whoosh, and Sulu couldn’t help but allow a smile to creep along his features. “If you don’t mind me asking…” He ventured, flicking his gaze up to his new found lover. “What exactly brought this about?” 

“Well, I happen to have a good old fashioned crush on the attractive man that keeps my boat afloat.” Kirk’s hands wrapped around the other’s hips, pulling Sulu close. “And I happened to hear from a certain Russian Ensign, who happens to be his best friend, that this attractive man happens to be an eager virgin with a kink for authority.” 

“Chekov!” Sulu flushed deep red, a loud, foreign curse falling from his lips. He hadn’t wanted Kirk to know it had been his first time. Not only was it embarrassing, but somehow he’d assumed that it would be a turn off. He growled, bringing a hand up to scrub at his face roughly.“I’ll kill him.” 

“Really?” Kirk’s hand slipped lower, fingers grasping at the curve of the pilot’s ass, sending shivers up his spine. “I was thinking of sending a thank you card.” 

Sulu laughed, turning to meet Kirk in a careful kiss. “I guess I can forgive the little secret spiller,” he murmured, his hands curled tightly across the span of his Captain’s shoulders. “But only this once.”

END.


End file.
